


Raise A Glass

by angel_of_broadway



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Blink and you'll miss it, Broadway References, But That's Unlikely, Discussions of the Afterlife, F/M, Gen, Little bit of angst, discussed reincarnation, discussions about mortality, maybe Lucio is finally realizing what an asshole he is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-18
Updated: 2018-01-18
Packaged: 2019-03-06 14:33:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13413315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angel_of_broadway/pseuds/angel_of_broadway
Summary: The plague can't be ignored anywhere, and Lucio has no idea what he's going to do about it.





	Raise A Glass

**Author's Note:**

> Looook, you can't give a theatre junkie a prompt like 'legacy' and not expect me to make even the tiniest Hamilton reference. If I could have found even more to put in there without it just being a mallet to the face...
> 
> We'll save that for the last one. Muahaha.

“Do you ever think about what will be left behind, when we're gone?”

Lucio was all too aware of how melancholy he sounded as Cora walked out onto the balcony. He'd become increasingly withdrawn as more and more reports were delivered to the palace, alarmingly high numbers of people succumbing to a mysterious illness. This disease had sprung up almost overnight, faster than any doctors could keep up with or diagnose. Until now, nothing had been able to jeopardize the tentative peace that had settled over the city in his short reign.

“When we're gone?” she repeated, handing him a glass of wine. “I thought you were going to haunt this place forever.”

“You'd like that, wouldn't you? Keeping your cozy position secure for the rest of your days.” He looked out over the glimmering lights of the city as he drank. Violent though his seizure of power had been, Vesuvia had become his home, and the thought of it being threatened by some invisible disease had shaken him to his core.

“It definitely has it's perks. Free drinks, for one.” Clinking her wooden mud against his glass in a toast, she leaned back against the railing, watching him with her stormy eyes. “You're worried.”

“Who wouldn't be? We have no idea how or where this plague started, or how it's spreading. The best doctors in the city are at a loss, and the death toll is already in the double digits.” Lucio grimaced down into his glass. Admitting his own failure in this situation was a hard thing to swallow. “Opening the palace up to the local fortune tellers and healers sounded like a good idea, but it's been two weeks...”

He set the glass aside and raked a hand through his hair in frustration. The feeling of utter helplessness had him more anxious than a caged animal, and he nearly snapped when Cora lay a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

“It's terrifying,” he sighed in exhaustion. She was only trying to calm him as always. “I don't think anyone in the court has gotten a whole night of sleep in almost a month. Nadia wants to write and temporarily halt trade with our allies. There's even talk of sealing the gates to prevent it spreading any further. A gods-damned quarantine, Cora.”

“The city is already in a panic. That would lead to full scale rioting.”

“I know that!” Her hand jerked back and he cursed under his breath, starting again after reining in his temper. He couldn't afford to ostracize any of his remaining confidants. “I know that. But what can I do? It's as if the gods themselves saw fit to send this plague down, just to punish me.”

Far below them, the palm trees down in the garden stirred lazily in the wind. In an attempt to defend his own pride, he was pushing away the one person he'd allowed so close in quite a long time. The realization was disheartening and sickening. 

After a long, thoughtful swing, Cora said, “In Stanghow, we believe that our ancestors give us a second chance when we die. They wipe the slate clean and send us back as a new start, to let us make up for whatever we did in our past life. If this is some sort of punishment for anyone's past, not just yours...” She shrugged, leaving the implication hanging. “I thought you should know. I'm going to ask the magician what I can do to help.”

Taken aback by her announcement, Lucio stepped back, staring with growing dismay. “You can't be serious. He's elbow deep in working on a cure, and he's been to the Lazaret more than once. If you get involved, there's no telling if you'll become sick.”

“Like it or not, I have at least some magic I could offer. If I don't get involved, I have to live with know that I sat back and let people die when I could have helped.” Her face was neutral, unworried, though the hand twisting anxiously at her necklace betrayed just how conflicted she was on the inside. “If this is what little bit I can leave behind whenever I'm gone, then that will be my legacy.”

It was unsettling to hear the huntress talk about her own mortality so casually, like it would really mean nothing to sacrifice herself for the good of the city. Bitterness heavy in his mouth, he replied, “A legacy is only planting seeds in a garden that you'll never get to see.”

Cora gave her usual snort of laughter, unrefined and breathtakingly charming. “When did you become so philosophical?”

“What can I say. Tragedy makes poets of us all.”

With a humorless chuckle from both parties, they tapped their glasses together and drank heavily. In the face of mounting terror, alcohol was the only thing that made sense. So they drank, his huntress at his side and the stars twirling slowly overhead, and he wished he could steal some of her selfless courage. Better to die a martyr than a coward. It seemed that was the only thing he would leave behind – the story of a pretentious, far-reaching mercenary who couldn't save his own conquered city.


End file.
